Inside a dream
by FantasyGirlx
Summary: What would you do if you were taken into the fifth Harry Potter book - Order of the Pheonix? What if your task was to put Harrys destiny on track? Would you change what would happen if the book took its' course? by *Fallen Wolf*
1. Prologue

**Note: I don't own anything of the Harry Potter sequel. Those were all J.K Rowlings' Ideas. This story is purely fan made! Amy and Dean are my invented characters. Hope you all like it. Next chapter up shortly, stay tuned...and don't forget, patience. :p**

What would you do if you were taken into the fifth Harry Potter book - Order of the Pheonix? What if your task was to put Harrys destiny on track? Knowing the story by heart, follow Amy in her adventure inside the book and her constant decisions on whether things should go as planned.

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**Prologue - Inside a dream**

The rain poured down hard against the foggy window. From it, a dim light glowed out into the moonless night, joining the street lamps' yellowish rays, illuminating the empty stone sidewalk below. Inside, a girl sat by the window.

She was leaning against the wooden back of her chair, her head cupped in one hand as stared bored out into the silent night. With one thin finger, she spelled her name on the cold cloudy glass as she tapped her feet to the beat of the music pouring from her mp3 player, her soft voice repeating the lyrics of Amaranth by Nightwish. She stopped as a blur passed suddenly by her window.

Removing one ear phone to listen to her surroundings, she pressed the pause button. Reluctantly the girl cleaned her name from the window with her sleeve then peered through the foggy void. The street was just as it was minutes ago, empty and silent with the exception of a car passing now and then and a splash as its' wheels passed the water that flooded the sides of the road.

_Must have been a bird_ she thought.

She lay back in her chair and sank once again into the sound of the music. But as she pressed play to restart her mp3, nothing happened. She pressed it again and through the blue light appeared black letters: **Battery Low**

_Just my Luck. _

She jumped on top of her bed to reach for the bedside table. The red watch indicated 10:00 pm, but the girl didn't pay it any mind. Opening the drawer, she removed a wide wooden box were she kept working batteries, but even as she pulled back the lid she knew there was none inside. Scowling under her breath she closed the box and shoved it back inside the bedside table. She looked around her room for something to do.

Right in front of her bed, was her pride and joy. Dressing part of the faint grey painted wall, was a white bookcase brimming with her most treasured books about magic, fantasy, fiction and adventure. With them, she had dived into worlds beyond her own and lived other lives. To her it was like dreaming awake, and she loved it.

Right in the middle of the bookcase was a stand, and unlike the other packed ones, it held only seven books. Her Harry Potter collection. A story like no other. She had read it over and over again until the books' spine was wasted. She had read it alone in her room and aloud to anyone willing to listen. She knew almost every word by heart, repeating chapters of the books out of memory so she could fall in her favourite dream every night as if she had never left. She ran her finger across the binds of the stacked books.

_What to read?_

Just as she was about to touch her Harry Potter collection, a loud banging sound erupted from the window, as something rammed against it. Jumping with fear, she clung to the bookcase as she looked out the window.

Standing on the sill, looking back at her, were two big round crimson eyes. It bore into her with such ferocity, her breath was held back in her lungs. It cocked its head to one side then disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared.

She remained there, stuck to the spot, her eyes wide with fear. Reaching for the shelf, she grabbed her purple dragon paper weight that had been holding up a couple of books and held it as a weapon in front of her. She gulped back the urge to run towards the door and down to the living room where her parents were watching TV.

_I have to stop imagining or else I'll start flipping. Maybe this is a dream, maybe I fell asleep and I'm dreaming._ She tightened her grip on the paper weight _If it is, it sure feels real._

_Get a grip on yourself Amy, you big coward. This must have some logical explanation... _She bit back the sudden thought that reached her. _If he did this..._

"Is that you Dean? Quit it, I'm serious! It's not funny anymore." She yelled out. It was probably that idiot brother of hers, having his little vengeance after she had accidentally fried the circuits of his X-box. "I already said I'm Sorry! What do you want me to do, beg?!"

The lights started to flick on and off after a few momentary minutes of silence.

"Stop it Dean! If I get my hands on you...you're so Dead! Dean!"

The books started falling off the bookshelf and she raised her arms protectively around her head as she darted away from it, and leaned against her bed.

_What the hell? What's happening?!_

She looked back at the bookcase and almost fell to her knees as her legs gave way. Standing on top of the only book that hadn't fallen to the floor, one of her Harry Potter books, was a vicious black owl, its head tilted to the side while big red eyes looked back at her. It opened its mouth and let out a deadly screech that drilled deep in her mind. She winced and covered her ears as her brain rattled with the sound of nails against a blackboard. The girl looked back at it and her mouth fell open in disgust. The owl was melting onto the book, inky black liquid dripping down the books' cover.

_No! Stop it! _

With rage she threw the paper-weight at it, in attempt to save her book. But just as it was about to hit its' target, the statue bounced of an invisible barrier and was sent it flying back towards her. She fell to her knees in time before the dragon crashed with her and instead, shattered against the wall above her bed. She crawled towards the door as fast as she could and pulled at the knob, trying with all her might to yank the door open, but the knob wouldn't budge. It was as if the door had been glued shut to the wooden frame. She noticed blood smeared against it and noticed shallow cuts in her hand made by the force of her grip against the paper-weight.

Amy was about to hit the door and scream out for someone to help her, when the lights gave out completely, plunging the room in total darkness. She curled up in a ball and hid her head against her knees with tightly shut eyes and covering her ears, she started humming the first music that came to her mind. Minutes ticked by, and nothing seemed to happen. She feared opening her eyes. What if the owl was there, waiting for her to show her face and attack her?

The room was silent, no sign of movement and so she slowly opened her eyes to her surroundings. The first thing that caught her attention was the faint glow, emanating from the book that still stood on the bookcase, a soft warming blue glow. It made the book look so majestic and magical. Amy looked around the room. No sign of the owl.

_Maybe I should go take a look? No I can't! Something very wrong is happening. This is not a dream...It can't be a dream._

She felt a tingle creep up her spine as she gazed at the strange light that shined from within the book. It was as if the book was calling for her, asking her to approach. Despite her terror, she got up and slowly walked to the shelf. It seemed to take an eternity to get there, her legs where so heavy. She was near enough to read the title.

**Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix**.

She half stopped in her tracks.

_I don't understand..._

The calling was stronger, and she stretched out her hand to touch it, half of her desperately wishing she wouldn't and to just turn around and run away from the accursed room. Her fingers touched the spine and a deep sensation of peace took over her. She wasn't expecting this, nothing like it. Maybe being electrocuted, or an explosion. She removed the book from the shelf and noticed that it wasn't the book that was glowing, it was the pages. Her hand shook visibly as she wondered what to do.

_Is it safe? I don't know...maybe I shouldn't..._

Taking a deep breath she opened the book. The letters seemed to be dancing beacons of blue fire spread across the thin sheet of paper.

"Oh..." she gasped as her eyes took in every detail of the beautiful sight. It was like gazing at the stars up close. She brought her hand across the first sentence, to see what it felt like. Then she noticed a line of blood appear above the letters.

Then a flash of light blinded her and everything went white.

** *Fallen Wolf***


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Harry Potter sequel. Those were all J.K Rowlings' Ideas. This story is purely fan made and the quotations of the real Harry Potter Order of Phoenix are present just to give sequence and logic to the story! The only thing mine is Amy, my invented character. Hope you all like it. **

**Thank you so much Crazzie-bunnies24 for being my first review... Hope this chapter is as good as the first, and doesn't down turn your review.**

**Next chapter may take some time, I don't know what else to write at the moment, but stay tuned...and don't forget, patience. :p**

What would you do if you were taken into the fifth Harry Potter book - Order of the Phoenix? What if your task was to put Harrys' destiny on track? Knowing the story by heart, follow Amy in her adventure inside the book and her constant decisions on whether things should go as planned.

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**Chapter 1 - Vision **

The wind brushed Amys' face. It was cool and refreshing as it tickled her skin, and the smell it bought of dampness and nature was comforting.

_How strange. I don't remember opening the window._

Her surroundings began to focus in her unconsciousness, her senses seeming to sharpen. She heard the low rustling of a cricket nearby, and also noticed that she was lying on something soft yet rough. Amy stretched her arm around her, looking for her bedside lamp, but her hand touched something prickly. She opened her eyes.

The sky was a raising dark, showing only the brightness of the stars eager to shine, even as the sun was still fading. Blinking her eyes, Amy tried to focus on the battle of colors that scarred the sky. Feeling something against her hand, she turned her head to investigate what had awoken her. A bush, no, a low bush wall that followed the borders of a field of tamed grass.

She sat up, rubbing her head, and looked mystified around her

_What…? Where am I?_

Amy didn't recognize anything. Wherever she was, she'd never been there before.

_What happened? How did I get here? _An idea crept through her mind and the girl breathed against her palm. _I don't smell drunk… _She stood up to test her coordination just in case. _No dizziness or stumbling…_

A flicker of light caught the corner of her eye. Turning around, Amy peered over the hedge. Another identical field ran parallel to hers, an empty concrete road separating them like a river cutting through the ground. The boring light of the street lamps had been turned on. To the north towered the faint shadows of residential buildings.

_That must be a town. At least I'm not in the middle of nowhere. "_How did I get here?"_ Was I kidnapped?_

She looked around her, scared by the sudden thought. _If interested in me, why leave me behind…and near a street clearly heading towards town? Maybe…_ She flexed her hands as she glared into nothingness. _I don't feel different. Sleepwalk?_

"Right." Amy reached into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew 2 dollars and a couple of coins. _Phone booth…town…north._

The girl stepped over the bush and onto the sidewalk, heading towards the shadows.

She walked for some time, half an hour at the most, but alone in the darkness, it seemed like an eternity. The sky was darkening and the shadows of the buildings were growing dimmer and harder to see, appearing to be more like a candle flame in the distance. The wind was tightening as well as it danced in all directions, more feverishly as it kept with the rhythm of the growing night. Amy crossed her arms across her chest to keep warm, since her thin, long-sleeved shirt provided close to little heat.

A rumbling sound broke the silence. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to see two stars speeding towards her. As she looked closer, the stars that inched closer turned into intense headlights of a car, its' engine trembling the ground beneath her feet. It came closer and closer, the lights coming together in one bright white blur…

"White light…Blinding…"

It was all so sudden, as flashes of the rainy night exploded in her mind. The bagging against the window, the big crimson eyes, the flicker of lights…

"Owl..." She gasped raising her hands to her face to keep the slides of images from disappearing from her head.

…melting upon the book, the door jammed, the blue glow on the…

"Book…"

Amy fell to her knees, moving her hands to clasp her chest as her heart heaved desperately from her chest.

_What does this mean? What happened to me?_

She shivered, no longer because of the cold, but in fear. Amy closed herself in her mind, trying to grip her sanity as she felt it slipping away.

_I was drugged…I had to be…some sort of illusion chemical…who would do that? I'm not going crazy…I'm not going crazy! This is a dream…It's all just a weird real dream. Wake up, wake up! Just open your eyes…and wake up, damn it!_

Her hair whipped against her face as a wave of wind crushed against her. The engine was deafening as the car passed near. She imagined being back in her room, with the window open, lying on her bed; a car had just passed by on the street below and her parents were still downstairs, watching some mystery/crime series. It felt real, as strongly as she wished it. Amy glanced around her again. It was still dark, but she wasn't at home, in her room. The grassy plains still surrounded her and the concrete street still lay ahead. Amy turned her gaze to follow the car. It sped down the road, almost out of sight.

_I need help…I need to find help. Somebody…anybody!_

"Hey wait! Wait! Stop!" she screamed, darting after the car. Its' headlights illuminated a sign that had been hidden by the darkness, then disappeared completely, engulfed by the night, the remaining of its existence only two red lights slowly fading in the distance. At this, she remembered the owl and the big round crimson eyes and another wave of terror clutched her tightly.

"Please! Wait!" she bellowed

Amy was completely alone once more. She stopped in her tracks, unable to move further. Fear gripped her tight and panic now controlled her every movement, her breathing hyperventilating. She was lost, alone, in the dark, as if trapped in between some surreal world were her she was there and yet, wasn't. Amy remembered the shadows of the town…

_Pull yourself together…You need to think…think…Just head north, always north. You'll reach the town then you can ask where you are, and see if anything makes sense…figure out was the hell is going on. Ok, that sounds like a plan. Baby steps, just remember the plan —_

She walked forward, more determined. After some time, she spotted a sign, the one the car had shown after it disappeared. Over it, the lamp post was flickering on and off, the sound of static striking the silence. Amy felt a tinge of hope. At least she wasn't lost for much longer. She ran to the sign, a low, smooth, rocky plank dug into the dirt. The borders were carved outwards like a frame, and nailed in the center was shinny golden letters that spelled the name of the area ahead. In the dark it was hard to see, and she strangled to read it at once when the light flickered on.

"Little Whinging" she said as the lamp flickered back off.

Amy though for one brief moment, then smiled and sat on the floor. The owl had been standing on the Harry Potter book…and strangely she was in Little Whinging, having this pathetic panic frenzy. She giggled. Of course, she was in Harrys' world, just like she had been before, every night when she fell asleep. She knew it and yet she panicked. How stupid of her. Maybe she had doubted herself because it felt so real and alive, or maybe it was because deep down she felt it was more than a dream… But now she was sure. It was a dream, what else could it be. She crawled to the bush and sprawled against it, side against the ground, head resting upon her folded arm. She closed her eyes once more. Now she would fall asleep and then when she'd wake up, she'd be in her room, just like always. Amy felt calm and peaceful once more. It was relaxing but she still felt, burning deep within her, the reassurance that this still wasn't a dream.

***

Amy had spent half of the early morning in hysterics after she realized when she woke up, that she was still in Little Whinging, lying on the ground between the bushes and the stone sign. Her hysteria had ranged from fear and bewilderment, to determination. She couldn't be inside a book… that was impossible. Amy kept with the kidnapped theory for comfort. That was the only logical possibly at the moment she found to explain how she travelled over an ocean without knowing how.

She was now walking through the city, trying to find someone who could lead her to number 4 Private Drive, to meet a nonexistent Harry Potter.

As Amy walked, the people looked at her. She wasn't what you would call a walking wonder. From sleeping on the ground, her straight brown hair was tangled and sticking out in awkward positions. Her pearl-white shirt and jeans were smudged with grass stains and dirt. She lowered her head with every step, discreetly passing a few fingers in her hair in attempt to tame it back to normal. The British accent hung strongly in the boisterous city. It whirled through every word she heard. This made her even more determined in her mission.

_I can't be, it's impossible_ She kept repeating to herself

Passing by the store windows full of food, reminded her of her hunger. She bit back the desire and continued forward. At the end of the road were a couple of policemen talking together. She neared them to ask directions.

"Excuse me sirs"

They all turned to look at her, their eyes taking in every detail of her uncared form. Their faces cringed in annoyance.

"What is young lady?"

"I was hoping you could help me. I'm kind of lost —"

"Tourist eh?" said the other

"Sort of. I was looking for Private drive. Could you help me?"

"And why would you be going there miss? Up to mischief?" asked the last, his eyebrow raised in question

"Visiting family." Amy answered, starting to get pretty annoyed at the law enforcements smug attitude.

"Hum…Well, follow this road. Then you take a left at the street light, right at the crossing and right again at the end of the third street light. You'll find a bridge. Follow it, always straight and you'll be in Private Drive."

"Thank you" Amy turned to follow directions, still feeling their eyes on her back as she followed down the road.

Little after she saw the bridge. Amy turned and walked through an empty alley, head cleared of all emotions or thoughts, only set on her mission. Ahead of her, at the far end of the alleyway appeared a boy. He couldn't be older 15, 16 at most. His black hair was messy, like hers, although she doubted that he had passed through the same night. He removed the lid of the nearby trash can and peered inside, his glasses slipping a little on the bridge of his nose. Out of nowhere, the well known lines slid through her mind like a screen play:

_**'He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his t-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers…'**_

Her mouth hung open, as she watched the boy, the description as exact as if she had just noticed and described him aloud.

_**'He had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets, scavenging newspapers in the bin along the way…'**_

The boy reached inside and pulled a wrinkled of bundle up old newspaper.

_It couldn't be..._

The lid slipped from his hand as he shoved the newspaper beneath his arm. Struggling to keep it from crashing with the ground, he stumbled with gripping both the paper and the lid, but they both ended falling to the floor. He bent over to pick it up, and the tip of what seemed like a stick poked out from under his shirt. Amy raised a hand and clamped it over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, and darted behind a pile of fruits boxes and trash, just as the boy looked down the alley. He opened the old newspaper to glimpse the news.

Amy was surprised that she wasn't afraid. Her heart was actually heaving with happiness and joy. She didn't care, now, of the impossibility it was to be inside a book. She had just seen Harry Potter, the real, in the flesh Harry Potter, the one she always hoped was real. She peered over the boxes. He was still there, paging through the newspaper. It was really him, she knew it deep down. There he was just a few feet in front of her, the greatest wizard…the one who had survived…the one who brought down—

Pain split her head. Amy didn't know what had happened. One moment she was looking at Harry, the next images started flying through her mind: a batty old lady sitting on a couch, stroking her cats and watching TV; Harry lying on the bed of flowers, no one in sight; the Dementor attack; Harry carrying Dudley alone down the street; Harry in the hearing, head bent and crying...

She opened her eyes at once. Sweat trickled down her forehead. Amy was lying on the ground, hands clutching her head. A pair of emerald green eyes was staring back at her. The boy was shaking her shoulder.

"Help someone! Hey, are you all right?"

It took a moment for her to realize it was Harry, towering over, concern spread across his face.

She was looking past him, and remembering her vision, so per say. Amy realized that she had glimpsed the future.

_The batty old woman is Mrs. Figg. She won't go shopping, because she would be watching TV with her cats, and therefore she won't be there to see Harry defeat the Dementors. That means that there is no witness to testify in the hearing and Harry will be expelled—_

Amy looked back at the boy.

"I've called for help. Don't move, you hit your head pretty hard." Harry said as she tried to sit up her head still stinging with pain. His voice was just as she imagined it, so was his thunderbolt shaped scar.

She gulped. How could she tell the boy of his coming fate? He would think she was a Death Eater, or a spy… in general an enemy. How would she understand someone who she never met suddenly telling her herfuture?…No! It wasn't supposed to happen like this! He was supposed to vanquish Voldemort, be the hero of the wizardry world… she couldn't let it be destroyed…She had to do something! Only she knew what would happen, and what should happen. Only she could put things right.

Amy was gawking at the boy, unsure what she had to do, but whatever it was, she had to do it…fast!

*FallenWolf*


	3. Chapter 2

**Authores Note:**

Hey!...I'm so **SO** sorry for not uploading in a long time! There is no foriveness possible...it's just... I was really interested in writing the part when Amy went to Grimmauld Place, Sirius' house, but before that came these two chapters and I was unmotivated to write them. They seemed so boring. Explanations always are, but anyways, I went on writing my own story. (Yeah, I'm trying to wite an original :p) One night I just said "Well, you're never going to write anything further if you don't get these chapters over with. So I started writing and in three days _Voila_!!! I think I managed to dive the boring. But tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Harry Potter sequel. Those were all J.K Rowlings' Ideas, so don't sue me! This story is purely fan made and the quotations of the real Harry Potter (the parts presented in bold during the story ) are present just to give sequence and logic to the story! The only thing mine is Amy, my invented character. Hope you all like it. **

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****The Right Door**

_Ding-Dong...Ding-Dong_

Alone on the porch, Amy awaited nervously. She was brushing the dirt of her pants, stealing a peek through the nearest window. She could see no one there.

_Knock, knock, knock_

She tried again, still peering through the glass, but still no one came. No noise was heard from the other side. She cursed under her breath and crossed the road to another house, passing through another picket fence and stone-paved driveway.

_Ding-Dong._

She quickly glanced up at the sky. The sun was still high on the sheet of clear blue heaven. The summer afternoon heat persisted against her skin. She whipped her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair just as she heard someone approach the door.

"Hello Madame." She said

The woman stood holding the door slightly ajar, just enough to see through. Her eyes were sunk deep in her skull and her cheekbones were jutting out from under her pale skin, giving her a skeletal appearance, although she was wearing exceeding makeup to mask this. The woman stared at Amy sourly.

"We are not interested in charity" She withdrew to close the door. Inside, the television was awfully loud. It sounded like a wrestling match. A boy seemed to be yelling at the screen.

Amy, pushed the door back. "Wait. I'm not from charity – "

"Who are you then? What do you want?"

"I'm sorry to bother, but I was looking for Mrs. Figgs' house. I'm new here and all the houses seem the same. This wouldn't be it?"

"Heavens no, it isn't. Mrs. Figg lives down the road, the house with those ghastly drapes and that hideous bird bathing statue in her lawn. It's not hard to find, just follow the cats. They all lead to her house eventually."

The woman closed the door without any other word leaving Amy, speechless, looking at it. She found herself with an expression of shock and anger on her face, like someone had just shoved a plate of rotten eggs and year-round gyms socks under her nose all of a sudden.

"Thank you" she spat back.

True, it wasn't hard to find the house, now that she knew what she was looking for. Sprinting up the road, she banged her fist on the door, repeatedly. Then remembered the doorbell, and tried that.

_Ding-Dong_

She heard the purring of cats brushing against the door. One even appeared near the window. It curled to face her, the softness of its fur more than tactical just by sight. As it looked at her, a face of an old lady appeared above it through the curtains. Moments later, the door opened. The old woman held a brown-spotted cat in one hand and was holding another back with her foot.

"Tuut tuut, my dears. Go back inside." She continued, shoving them back into the house. She turned to look at Amy. "Good evening."

"Good evening. A very good evening" responded Amy, her heart starting to race as she realised what she was doing. But she had to do it, even if the woman would think her crazy and probably kick her away or send her cats to claw her to pieces. She felt her voice knot as her nerves started to commandeer her body. "Are you Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes I am. And who may be asking?"

"My name is Amy, Amy Barnlow. I really need to speak with you. If you don't mind me entering, it's best to talk somewhere more private."

"What is this about?" she asked.

Amy though she saw a flash of fear cross Mrs Figgs' face, but it had been so fast, that she probably imagined it.

'_Although'_ she thought '_I'm defiantly a nice sight to see, and the way I'm most likely acting is giving the old woman the wrong ideas'_.

"Really, its' a delicate matter. We should seriously take it inside. It's of the most urgency."

"I asked what this is about."

"I'll tell you what this is about, but somewhere more private. Please, just trust me."

"Forgive me, but I don't even know you. Tell me what this is about or I'm going to call the police. Is this some sort of gag?"

"It isn't. It's serious, dead serious!" Amy raised her hands to her head. "I realise how this all may seem. To tell you the truth, I'm so freaked out right now on so many levels that acting more composed or politely has been temporarily disconnected from my system. I'm barely taming my sanity to think straight and try to do this as calmly as I can without wondering through the impossibility of all this – "

Amy saw Mrs. Figg take an involuntary step back. Amy raised a hand to stop her.

"I- I need your help!"

"You seem to need more than my help, girl."

"Please!" Amy climbed one of the three steps to whisper as silently as she could to the woman. "It's about Harry!"

"Harry?!" She exclaimed incredulous, then looked around her and took another step back, her hand curling against her chest. Her eyes were still wide with shock as she continued with a tone of indifference. "Harry? Harry Potter? The boy from number 4? What about him?"

"He's going to ..." Amy whispered more urgently, but shook her head, looking around. She was praying no guardian wizard was listening. "I can't say... Don't you have somewhere you need to go? Or planning? It's such a nice day."

"What are you talking about child?"

"He needs you." Amy climbed another step towards Mrs. Figg.

"I'm calling the Police." She turned inside.

"Wait! Don't, listen!" The woman was starting to close the door but Amy stuck her foot between the doorway and the door as it almost slammed shut. "Call Dumbledore." She blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Figg said dumb-stricken. The mention of Dumbledores' name seemed to have been a bucket of cold water being spilled down the old womans' spine. It had almost the same reaction on her.

"Call him. He'll listen. He'll know what to do." Persisted Amy

"I don't know this Dumbledore character. You must have me confused with someone else." said Mrs. Figg tugging at the door again.

"Yes you do. Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most powerful living wizard that can outstand Voldemort in a fight. The one who's risking his career to raise the blind everyone seems to stubbornly be pulling over their eyes when they hear speak of His return. You defiantly know him, Squib."

"How do you -?"

"Know this?" she hesitated "... I just do. I can't explain here. But if you still don't trust me, call him. Tell him to come as fast as he can. He'll believe me. You trust him don't you?"

"And how do you expect me to do that?"

Amys' head was starting to spin. The pain in her foot was starting to crawl up her leg. She felt her grip on the control gear of her body slack and as she spoke, her voice grew an octave louder.

"I don't know and I don't care! By Floo Powder, by owl, by asking him to zap himself from wherever he is to save the life of the boy who has to live! He has to come. Now, before the sun falls, unless you want to hear me out. But you won't do that will you?" Amy realised as she studied the woman.

Mrs. Figg was looking at her petrified, unable to speak. The woman's hand that was holding the door was shaking visibly and her breathing was irregular. The force she had been putting on the door to make it close was now gone and Amy removed her foot, gratefully. She took a deep breath to calm herself, than eyed Mrs. Figg pleadingly.

"You have to help him. I understand why you don't trust me. For all you know I could be a Deatheater or under some sort of spell. Just call Dumbledore. I have no weapon nor am I a match for him so he'll be in no danger. I just need someone to listen."

After a long moment, Mrs. Figg nodded her head in defeat. She looked passed Amy to the houses nearby. This discussion couldn't have gone unseen. To Amy, it seemed as if the whole street had been flooded with witnesses, trying to understand what was going on.

'_Join the Club'_ she thought grimly

"I'll just wait out here till he comes. I won't do anything...but please, hurry."

Amy waited a moment longer before descending onto the lawn and, sitting on the sidewalk, laid her back against the white fence. She heard the door shutting rapidly long before she took any step off the porch. Looking up at the sky, she breathed deeply as she hugged her knees.

'_Well, that went...all wrong' _Amy buried her head in the gap between her arms. She hadn't thought of the possibility of Mrs. Figg not listening to her. She thought she would have solved her problem then and there. Mrs. Figg would have heard her patiently and then shoot out the door to go shopping. Like anything was easy._ 'Where did Dumbledore come from?'_

Her stomach grumbled savagely. She blushed momentarily and was glad that her face was hidden. "Tch......" she hissed and licked her lips.

She'd done all she could have, under the circumstances...Now all she could do was wait. Wait until Dumbledore arrived. Maybe he could understand more of what was happening. Maybe he would have answers. The thought that he had been responsible for bringing her into the book had already crossed her mind, but why hadn't he come to tell her? Why hadn't he come to explain what was happening instead of leaving her wondering if she had turned a new type of insane? Whatever, right now she knew that he was probably the only who could help her sort out this mess. Alone she had no power; she was practically paralysed, no matter how many visions she would get. She couldn't help Harry herself...she was a simple punny muggle. No Hearing would accept her testimony. She needed the help of someone who she could count on, she needed the help of a wizard, and Dumbledore was the only smart and powerful wizard she could remember. He could defiantly convince Mrs. Figg on going shopping, couldn't he?

'_But will he believe me?'_ She wondered as she tried to sort out a speech in her head explaining everything that had happened in the way that seemed the sanest.

***FallenWolf***


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Harry Potter sequel. Those were all J.K Rowlings' Ideas, so don't sue me! This story is purely fan made and the quotations of the real Harry Potter (those are the parts presented in bold throughout the page) are present just to give sequence and logic to the story! The only thing mine is Amy, my invented character. Hope you all like it. **

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**Converse of Wisdom**

The day seemed as if it never saw the end. How long had she been on the sidewalk? 30 min? An hour? The sun hadn't been there before had it? She looked unwillingly to her wrist, although she knew she had no watch. Her shirt was no longer recognisable, and she didn't want to think of the state her face was in. Her stomach wasn't having its nice day in paradise as well. It insisted on playing the same symphony even though she mentally told it, more than a hundred times, to wait and shut up.

She had thought over the details of what happened to her. The more she thought about it, the more un-rational it seemed. It sounded more like a fine horror story than her life. She thought about what she would say and the more she thought about it, the more she was glad she would be explaining it to Dumbledore. He had the wisdom to no longer separate reality from the truth and that would surely help. She also thought about Harry. She felt bad leaving him crashed on the alley floor looking oddly at her as she ran out of there, using her remaining energy as turbo. What was he thinking right now? What description had he branded her with? She suddenly felt so stupid. And poor Mrs. Figg, she probably scared the old woman to the bone. Had she actually managed to call Dumbledore in the state she was in? Most likely to have collapsed by the door.

Perhaps Amy was losing her jar of marbles after all.

Amy pinched a little stone near her from the ground and rolled it between her fingers. "Why is it taking this long? For a powerful wizard he sure is pretty slow." She mumbled, throwing the rock out onto the road.

"Unfortunately old age brings many disadvantages, even to the strongest." Said a soft voice behind her.

Her eyes widened as she instinctively turned around. She was facing a rather old man who, too, was gazing at her with intent blue eyes. The words sprang to her mind again, so familiar, so unique. It was like seeing the reflection of once a very real memory.

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground.**

**He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. **

Her eyes shifted to his hair, following the gleaming silver strands that fell down his back and then continued along his cotton-like beard and onto his garment.

**He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.**

Her eyes shot back to his face. It couldn't be more precise. His eyes seemed like two bright gems glaring at her curiously.

"I came as fast as I could. To my defence, I pray these bones are a little too old to travel by Floo Powder."

"Dumbledore" Amy whispered. She realised she had been holding her breath. She hurried to mask her embarrassment "I-I didn't...I didn't mean it...like that... sir!"

Dumbledore chuckled softly and looked over his shoulder towards Mrs. Figgs' front window. She rapidly withdrew from peeking through the curtains, pretending as if she was never there.

"You must be the strange lunatic girl that has scared my good friend silly?"

"Yes... No! I mean no!...I'm not a lunatic...It wasn't my intention to scare her, honest...How stupid! My- My name's Amy Barnlow." Amy raised her hand in a pathetic attempt of a respectful greeting. Dumbledore shook it gently.

"Greetings Amy. I'm Albus Dumbledore, although you seem to know that already."

She grinned hoarsely. Dumbledores' intent stare upon her seemed to relaxed a little even though his voice continued to flow as smoothly as it had in the beginning.

"You look like you are hanging upon your last spark young one. Your message must be of great importance. No more delays. Come inside, we'll be more comfortable."

"In there?" Amy pointed at Mrs Figgs' house. The old woman had sneaked her head back under the curtains and was studying them again. Amy shook her head. "I don't think Mrs. Figg wants to see me any closer than this."

Dumbledore dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Probably." Turning towards the door, he stretched his elbow to her, crooning his head to the side and inviting her to take it through the top of his glasses. She hesitantly circled her hand over his arm and followed him towards the door. Mrs. Figg opened it before Dumbledore lifted his hand to knock.

"If it wouldn't be much of an inconvenience Abagail, we would like to intrude upon your hospitality for a few minutes. I don't want the poor girl fainting before she could tell me what all this is about."

Amy felt her face glowing every shade of red. She lowered her head, hoping that Mrs. Figg would actually give more notice to her hair.

"I'm fine really, I just -" She tried to mumble

"Of course not Albus." The old woman said stepping aside. "So she's..." she managed to whisper as Dumbledore passed by her. Amy heard it anyways.

"On a very important mission it seems. There is no danger..." he looked at Amy through the corner of his eye. Mrs. Figg turned from shutting the door to face them again. "...just yet. If it makes you feel safer my friend, I'll enforce the barrier around this house. But there is no need. You are safe. The girl means no harm."

"That's what I said. But I understand. I wouldn't trust me too." Mrs. Figgs' face contorted with caution. Amy bit her lip.

'_That probably wasn't the right thing to say.' _

"It's just I've wasted so much time-"

"And time is of the essence, yes." Dumbledore interrupted in his humming voice

"Please, make yourselves at home" Mrs. Figg lead them to the living room were three cats rested on the sofa. She shooed them away to make room for her guests. Amy sat herself on the couch in front of Dumbledore. He continued to study her through the shades of his glasses as Mrs. Figg took a seat next to him. She seemed to be leaning the nearest to him as possible.

'_Do I really look that dangerous?'_

Her stomach ached again as if threatening that she would look more dangerous if it continued to lack of food. If Amy felt every shade of red before, now she discovered a whole new collection of tones.

"Goodness child!" exclaimed Mrs. Figg "How long have you been without eating?!"

"Since yesterday, I think... I'm not sure exactly."

"I'll go get some crakers-"

"There's no need." Dumbledore took out his wand from within the folding of his robe. With a flicker of the tip, a tea pot and three cups appeared out of thin air. A white porcelain tea collection engraved with golden drawings around the rims. A jar of milk and a basin full of sugar appeared with another glide of the wizards' rod. A few more motions and a plate full of delights began to rain upon a forming green cloth the hovered over Mrs Figgs' decorated tea table. Even after everything had settled on the floating slab, Amy still looked at the new objects with her jaw hanging open a mile wide.

"Help yourself." said Dumbledore as he poured a cup of tea for Mrs. Figg, then for her and himself. Amy grabbed a strawberry covered cookie and twisted it in every angle giving it a silent discreet sniff. Dumbledore smiled "I can assure you that it's real. And pretty good so I heard."

'_That was so __.......__AWSOME!!!!!!'_ Her thoughts were screaming at her. She never, in all the time she'd been inside the book, actually thought of seeing real magic preformed, but to see it and by none other than Albus Dumbledore and with none other than one of the Deathly Hollows. She jammed the cookie in her mouth before she started screaming in hysterics. And it was, in fact, delicious.

"It's wonderful." She replied.

Dumbledore leaned back on the couch as he sipped his tea. His eyes still shone brightly on Amy. "Now that we are comfy, there was something you wanted to say Amy."

"Yes, sir. It's...It's about Harry, Harry Potter." She looked at Mrs Figg. The old woman was stroking her cat. She still looked uncomfortable with the girls' presence.

'_Would it be safe to say it in front of her?'_ Amy wondered. _'If things are suppose to follow as it says in the book, Mrs. Figg is supposed to be caught by surprise when the two Dementors show up. If I tell her, would it change things? But I have to make her go shopping, or she won't find and never see the Dementors__,__ period. I have to explain right?'_

As if Dumbledore read her thoughts, he posed his tea cup. "Abagail, would you mind giving us a minute alone."

She had been caught off-guard. "Um....Yes, I guess. I'll go upstairs. If you need anything..."

As she left, Amy felt a strange ambience flow through the room. Dumbledores' presence was immense. A knot started to form in her throat.

'_Of all retched times!'_

She tried to sip a bit of tea. Dumbledore broke the silence for her.

"You don't need to be nervous Amy. I believe something strange is going on here that I can't quite put my finger on. You seem to be battling against something you can't quite put your finger on as well. Let's be open shall we." He leaned once again against the sofa, hands crossed over his lap.

Amy took a deep breath.

"Well sir. Believe it or not, I had an explanation ready, but know it just seems silly."

"A young muggle who knows a lot about the wizardry world seems like something hard to explain."

"That isn't important right now sir. Harry's in danger and only Mrs Figg can help him. But as you see, she thinks I'm nuts. She'll never listen to me."

"In danger? What do you mean?" he said suddenly serious.

"He's going to be attacked sir. By a couple of Dementors."

He eyed her intently. His light blue eyes burned deep in her consciousness as he tried to study her. "How do you know this?"

"I don't know if it's worth explaining right now. The thing is, Harry's going to be attacked and Mrs. Figg has to go shopping before 7pm or everything is ruined."

"Shopping?" Dumbledore asked her. She saw she lost him on that word.

"From the beginning Dumbledore sir? Well, Mundungus has been disappearing from his watch. Mrs. Figg can prove this. She put out watch, to warn her if Mundungus did it again. The thing is, she's suppose to go out shopping and find Mr. Tibbles on the way, who tells her Mundungus has disappeared again. She's suppose to run back to private drive to guard Harry, but finds that he's not there. When she does find him, she'll witness Harry's attack, and that's going to be very crucial in the future." She took a breath "That's going to help."

Dumbledores' expression had gone blank as he heard her tale. "This is very accurate." He managed to say after a minute of silence.

"Yeah. And it's true." Amy continued. She feared she freaked him out. If he didn't believe her, than she was lost, she didn't know what else to do.

"I believe you speak the truth. Now either you are, and forgive me for saying this, a lunatic and believe with every fibre of your being that what you are saying is real, or it is in fact real. I can't precisely understand which one it is at the moment. The simple fact of knowing this before hand is strange, no doubt about it. And being a muggle yourself, who supposedly isn't to know of the existence of the magical universe knows something like this, you can see how many possibilities have been ruled out of any argument I'm trying to arrange to decide which truth I should believe."

"I understand sir. But there is a way to prove that I'm speaking the real truth. Send Mrs. Figg out shopping. What time is it?"

"It seems like 30 minutes to 7pm." He said softly, looking out the window.

"Ok. Just ask Mrs. Figg if she could go shopping, and we'll wait till she returns. If she relays the same thing I just did, then you know that I'm telling the truth. If not, than you can just chuck me into the nearest lunnyville, I feel like I'm almost there anyway."

Dumbledore remained silent for some time, emerged in his own thoughts. Amy awaited impatiently. He finally said "Yes, 'tis a way." He chuckled "We'll chuck us both." She giggled.

"I could also interfere."

"What?" asked Amy startled.

"If what you say is true, I can go see to Mundungus myself, see that he does not leave his post tonight. That way, Harry won't be unguarded during the attack. Or I could simply go there myself, and rid the Dementors before he even sees them."

"No. It can't go that way. That would change everything. I'm not here to change anything, just to put things on track."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"It's starting to get late sir. Mrs. Figg needs to go. Please! Trust me."

He looked absently at her, deciding what to do.

'_Please! Please!'_ she prayed squeezing her hands tightly in her lap.

Dumbledore focused back on her. He slowly got up and walked towards the door. Amy got up as well, ready to do anything to stop him from leaving. Just as she was about to plead, Dumbledore called for Mrs. Figg. In a flash, the woman was in the doorway.

"Yes Albus."

"I'm terribly sorry Abagail. I'm abusing your hospitality and I hate doing that –"

"Not at all Albus –"

"- But I need to be alone with Amy for some time. Was it alright with you if we stayed here in your lovely home? You probably had other plans before we intruded upon your afternoon."

"It was nothing important. I just had a few things to buy, but I was actually thinking of delaying it anyway."

"No, please, by all means. Take some fresh air. That way I would also have a moment with Amy."

"Are you sure you want to be alone Albus? I don't think that's such a good idea –"

"Don't worry Abagail. Everything will be just as you left it."

She looked suspiciously at Amy, who sunk back on the sofa. The old bat was starting to get really annoying with those evil persistent eyes. It's not like she was criminal or anything. She real had scared the old lady bad, huh?

"Will you grant me this favour?" insisted Dumbledore

"Alright. I'll go get my coat" she said finally. As she opened the door, she patted Dumbledore lightly on the shoulder and whispered harshly. "You keep an eye on her. I don't trust her Albus. She's very strange, that girl."

"Indeed" replied Dumbledore lightly. He smiled a goodbye as Mrs. Figg set out down the road. He closed the door and went back inside.

Amy relaxed as she heard the door close. She shut her eyes. It was done, things would go right now. She felt light as an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. Bottled-up sleepiness started to drip down her eyelids. Dumbledore came back into the room. She looked at him and smiled.

"Thank you. Everything is going to be ok now."

He looked at her for a moment in speculation. Amy rested her head on the couches back and took a deep breath.

"From what you told me, Mrs. Figg won't be back for a couple of hours am I correct?"

"Yes. She'll be back quite late."

"Then that gives you plenty of time to explain how it is you know all this. I want to know, even if you do end up in the lunnyville."

Amys' opened her eyes slowly and looked at the great wizard. His eyes were brighter than usual as he awaited for her to speak. She swallowed dryly.

***

"**Vernon, shh!" said Aunt Petunia. "The window's open!"**

"**Oh – yes – sorry, dear..."**

**The Dursleys fell silent. Harry listened to a jingle about Fruit 'N Bran breakfast cereal while he watched Mrs. Figg, a batty, cat-loving old lady from nearby Wisteria Walk, amble slowly past. She was frowning and muttering to herself. Harry was very pleased that he was concealed behind the bush; Mrs. Figg had recently taken to asking him around for tea whenever she met him on the street. She had rounded the corner and vanished from view before Uncle Vernon's voice floated out of the window again.**

"**Dudders out for tea?"**

***

"So you don't know? You didn't bring me here?"

"If I recall, it was you who called for me Amy."

"It wasn't you who brought me into the book? The visions?"

Dumbledore looked at her gently, but said nothing.

'_He doesn't understand anything I'm saying. He didn't do this. I was so certain!...Who else was powerful enough to call me and ask to set things right?'_

Amy lowered her head.

"I thought you would be the one giving me answers sir. The fact is, I don't know what the hell is going on. I'm still here which means, something is still wrong. I thought I'd disappear when Mrs. Figg stepped out the door. Maybe I have to be there?"

"We still have time. Tell me everything and perhaps then you'll understand if you have to find Mrs. Figg or not. I'll personally take you to her if that's the case. So let's hear it from the beginning shall we? You had a vision?"

"A vision? I'm having so many visions, so many illusions! You can't be real! All this can't be real sir! I don't know if this is a dream or madness! It's the only logical explanation than...that I'm going mad!"

"You seem confused -" started Dumbledore as he saw the girl beginning to lose all sense of control. Her head snapped up to look directly at him. Amy felt her heart start to override.

"Understatement!!" she snapped

Dumbledore was starting to become concerned. He gave her another cup of tea to make her calm down. She took it greedily.

"Then lets' start with the things you know, the ones you are certain of."

Amy sipped her tea and began to receipt what she was sure was real. She mumbled it lowly to herself but loud enough for Dumbledore to hear.

"My name is Amy Marie Perlson Barnlow. Daughter of Jasmin Lyssa Hollen Perlson Barnlow and Christian Anthony Feral Barnlow. I live with them and my brother Dean Aaron Perlson Barnlow in Carson City, Nevada, USA. I'm fifteen, a highschool junior. I love reading and listening to music..." she felt better saying this. It made her feel less a freak. At least something still made sense.

"United States of America. It's a long way to travel."

"No it wasn't. That's the thing. I didn't come from this United States of America...at least I don't think so."

"You are from a different America?" asked Dumbledore confused

"Yes...the real America!" she exclaimed. Dumbledore was silent, waiting for here to explain further.

"I'm not from this world sir, because this world can't exist. This world you know sir, is part of a story in my world, the world of Wizardry, Harry Potters' world sir! It's fantasy, part of someones' imagination. I can't possibly be here. This isn't real!"

"I can assure you I'm very real." He said lightly

"That's what's freaking me out!" she blurted.

"So, if I understand correctly, you are telling me that you have been brought into a book."

Amy looked at him in defeat. "Yeah."

Dumbledore was silent for a time and Amy hastily sipped her tea, looking down at the floor. His voice sounded again, soft and gentle as ever.

"And this story...it's about Harry?"

"Yes." she responded with a sigh. "It's actually pretty well known his story. I know everything about him. Everything that's happened to him: the sorcerer's stone in his first year, Tom Riddle in his second. I know about Sirius and Buckbeak. I know a lot of other things too, things about him, and Sirius and you sir." She paused to see his reaction. Dumbledores' eyes were directed to the window as he listened. "I know what's really happening at the moment...you know..of Voldemorts' return."

His expression was blank as he looked back at her. "And you have visions of things going wrong. Diverting from the story you know. That is why you came?"

"You make it sound like I'm an ET. I didn't come sir...so per say. I was brought here. I thought it was you who magiced me here. I thought you had the answers." Dumbledore massaged his temple lightly in silence. He reached for his tea cup. "You think I'm mad too." Amy concluded.

He locked his full mysterious blue stare on her. "I...I'm afraid I don't know. It is a strange tale. I can understand why you seem so lost." She gave a weak smile. "It does explain many things."

"How did it happen? How did you come here?"

Amy slowly related everything from that night. The owl, the flicker of lights, the flaming letters, the white light...

"I've never heard of this type of magic before..." he stroked his beard in thought "It is very strange...And you know everything that is going to happen?"

"I know everything that is supposed to happen. Like I said, since I'm still here, something must still be wrong."

"But you do in fact know everything that is going on –"

"You mean if I know what Voldemorts' up too." A sparkle seemed to burn in the depths of Dumbledores' tired eyes. "The future is something that, for the best, should remain hidden. I'm sorry Dumbledore sir, but I can't say anything. That would-"

"Change." He interrupted and nodded. "Of course."

At that moment, the door flew open and Mrs Figg came charging through the room. Both Amy and Dumbledore stood up at the sudden explosion of sound. Mrs. Figg was shaking with rage. Her breath was practically heaving from her chest and her hair was falling out of her hairnet.

"Albus, you wouldn't believe it! Harry –"

"Was attacked" he said calmly looking at Amy. She maintained her own when their eyes met.

Mrs. Figg was astonished at first, but must have ignored the fact since she was after all talking to Dumbledore. "Yes! Two Dementors, in Little Whinging! They appeared out of nowhere. When Mr. Tibbles told me....and then I realised Harry wasn't home...Oh, what a problem! I'm just a squib, I couldn't do anything. The poor boy had to protect himself and that idiot cousin of his by himself. He used the Patronum charm Albus."

"It's alright Abagail, your presence there was extremely crucial. Where is he now?"

"I helped him home. What else could I have done?"

"I have to go sort out this mess before it spirals out of control. The ministry must be celebrating already." He mumbled

"By the ghosts, who would do this? In a town of muggles..." Mrs. Figg sat down on her couch exhausted. Dumbledore turned to Amy who in response just said "Hurry"

"Abagail, would you mind-"

"I'll keep an eye on her Dumbledore, just go, go! Oh the poor lad."

Dumbledore ducked inside the fireplace and, taking a pouch from within his robes he poured into his palm an ashy powder.

"We'll be talking again." He said to Amy who was taking in the whole scenario with sudden childish anticipation. He smiled, and with a firm voice said "Ministry of Magic" and released the powder at his feet. Soon the tall figure was engulfed in green flames. Amy held her breath and resisted the impulse to reach out and remove the wizard from the scorching emerald fire. Then just as soon as the fire appeared it faded away, and so did Dumbledore. Amy sat back on the sofa, beat, and found Mrs. Figg staring at her with accusing eyes. She took in a deep breath.

***FallenWolf***


End file.
